


Sunday Dinner

by Newrose12



Series: Hello John [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:37:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2705954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newrose12/pseuds/Newrose12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary finds Sherlock outside of her's and John's house, reluctant to go in and gives him a piece of her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my third, this is the Sunday dinner that they mentioned in the last story, or at least leading up to it, in short, this is Sherlock and Mary bonding.

Sherlock stood outside of his friends' house and stared, not daring to go inside just yet, he could see Lestrade's car parked on the street, and could hear laughter from inside the house but didn't move beyond the front gate. He knew he should swallow his pride and just knock on the damn door but he was finding that harder to do than he should have. Taking a deep breath, he turned to hail a cab and head back to Baker Street but a voice calling his name stopped him.

"You came," Mary said, grinning at him, she was carrying several bags and was bundled up against the biting cold. "What are you doing out here?" she asked, looking around as if expecting to see someone else, "it's freezing."

"Just arrived," he lied and she narrowed her eyes at him, a smile playing on her lips.

"Did you? Well come on then, lets get inside before we freeze to death," she replied and went to walk through the small gate surrounding their yard but stopped when he didn't follow. "Sherlock?"

"I think I'll be going," he responded and she rounded on him fully, her eyes narrowed.

"No I don't think so," she replied and he raised an eyebrow, "John invited you and you said you'd come, so you're going to join us."

"Oh?" he demanded and she grinned at him before a shiver ran through her and Sherlock eyed her apparel. She was wearing a coat, but not one warm enough for the weather, her hands were covered by gloves but her face was left uncovered, her nose and cheeks turning pink. Sighing and making a split second decision, he pulled the scarf from around his neck and proceeded to wrap it around hers. "You looked cold," he said in response to her questioning gaze and scowled when her eyes crinkled, and he was sure she was grinning but her mouth was hidden by his scarf. "What?"

"You like me," she said, her voice slightly muffled by the cloth and he scowled deeper.

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed and he could see her eyes got more crinkly making him think that she was smiling wider. "Stop that," he snapped feeling vulnerable without his scarf, "stop smiling."

"You like me," she repeated and he scoffed again and looked away but her next words brought his gaze back to her, "well that's good, because I like you too."

"None of the others did," he said after staring at her for a long moment, trying to determine if she was lying.

"Well that's because they were idiots," she pointed out and Sherlock smirked.

"Obviously," he responded and she nodded.

"Though, of all of them I think I have the most reason to hate you," she said in the next moment and Sherlock felt taken aback. "I was the one who was there to pick up the pieces after your death, I watched him be self destructive for nearly a year. Sherlock," she said, all teasing gone from her voice, the smile gone from her face, "when I met John Watson, he was devastated by your loss. No, that's not the right word," she said, mostly to herself, "broken, he was broken by your death. When you first met him, he was just returned from the war with no future, no purpose, and you gave him one and then took it away. You may not realize this Sherlock, but while working with you, he was putting the pieces of his life back together, and you were the glue that was keeping those pieces in place. When you died, they shattered into millions of pieces and he was left trying to put the puzzle back together alone."

"I did what I had-" Sherlock tried to interrupt but Mary held up a hand.

"I understand why you did it Sherlock, I do, I may not agree with it, but I do understand, and so does he, he's hurt that you didn't confide in him, that you were gone for so long, but he forgave you."

"I'm still not sure why," Sherlock replied, glancing towards the house.

"Because he loves you, you idiot," she said and he returned his eyes to her to find her looking at him like he was stupid, something he wasn't used to.

"John isn't-" he started to defend his friend but Mary held up her hand again, this time accompanied by an eye roll.

"I know he's not gay, _trust me_ , I know he isn't gay, but he loves you just the same. See, what those other women didn't understand is that you are a permanent fixture in his life and they tried to make him choose. I would never do that, partially because I am not that cruel, and partially because I'm afraid I wouldn't be his choice."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sherlock admonished, "you're engaged." Mary looked down at the ring on her finger and smiled.

"True," she replied, glancing up at him, "but I'm the second most important person in his life," she went on, "and I'm ok with that," she interrupted before he could open his mouth. "You were his lifeline, you were his sanity, you brought him back from the brink the first time, gave him something to live for. Within twenty-four hours of knowing him you cured his limp, gave him a place to call home, and a family."

"The limp was psychosomatic, not hard to cure," Sherlock protested and Mary rolled her eyes again.

"Sherlock, he'd been going to his therapist for months and she wasn't able to cure it, you cured it in a couple of hours. You showed him a battlefield, gave him something to fight for, what he needed to get past it."

"I needed a flat share as much as he did, and what family?" he went on, storing what she had just said away for further examination later.

"Have you ever met Harry?" she asked and he shook his head, "be grateful, she's extremely unpleasant, he has no parents so therefor no family, you gave him that. Sherlock," she cried waving a hand at the house when he looked lost, "what do you think Mrs. Hudson, Greg, Molly, John, and I hope one day me, are? We're family, family takes care of each other and in extreme cases, risks their lives for each other, and in _really_ extreme cases, fakes their deaths to keep the others safe."

"Well, what wouldn't you do for family right?" Sherlock responded after several moments and she grinned at him again.

"And one day, I hope to be included in that little family," she replied and he smiled at her, a full smile.

"I think you already are," he said and wrapped an arm around her and took a couple of the bags she held as he started walking towards the front door, feeling better about the whole thing.

"I mean it Sherlock," she said, stopping just before the door and turning to him, "I'll never make him choose between me and you. I know how much you mean to him and know that trying to drive a wedge between you would only ruin the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"And I'll try not to steal him away too often," Sherlock responded with a wink to which she laughed.

"I can live with that. Now, lets get inside, I think I've lost all feeling in my legs."

* * *

"Sherlock, hold on," Mary said as they were getting ready leave when dinner was over and they had spent a few hours talking and enjoying each others company, "here," she said and tried to hand his scarf back.

"Keep it," he replied, as he pulled on his coat and she clutched it to her chest, a wide smile on her face, "I have plenty more."

"Thank you," she said and moved forward before kissing him on the cheek.


End file.
